


Jitterbug

by treaddelicately



Series: Sunday Smutty Sunday [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Shameless Smut, handjobs, this is probably considered an AU of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:47:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29913009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treaddelicately/pseuds/treaddelicately
Summary: Fitz is a little anxious about a presentation, so Bobbi gives him another way to rehearse.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Bobbi Morse
Series: Sunday Smutty Sunday [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2161917
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	Jitterbug

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lazyfish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/gifts).



> I'm late, but it's still [Sunday Smutty Sunday](https://treaddelicately.tumblr.com/post/640572321314258944/sunday-smutty-sunday-nat-pasmonblog-and-i-are)! You'd think I'd have gotten more writing done on vacation, but my brain apparently noped out for a while and you know what? That's okay, too.
> 
> Thanks to @myracingthoughts for doing a quick gut check on this one for me! 💜
> 
> And thank you to Al, who requested **handjobs** for Fitzbobbi. Enjoy!!

Fitz had spent far, far too long staring at himself in the mirror.

He’d gone over the presentation maybe a thousand times at that point, hitting all of his points again and again to make sure that he had them down. Every bit of the speech had been memorized until he was sure it was seared into his brain, that he’d be reciting the conclusion in his sleep that night. But still, he couldn’t make himself stop practicing.

Maybe it was divine intervention or maybe it was his girlfriend’s uncanny sense of knowing when he needed her, but he was interrupted by Bobbi poking her head into the bedroom. 

“Hey,” she said. “Dinner’s here whenever you feel like eating.”

Fitz gave her a small smile. “Yeah, sure, thanks. I’ll, uh, I’ll be just a few more minutes.”

Bobbi perked an eyebrow, leaning in the doorway. “Are you still worried about that presentation?”

“Not worried,” he said, a bit too defensively. “I was just practicing.”

“You’ve been practicing all afternoon.” She stepped closer, her tone disapproving. “You’re gonna kill it, Fitz. I know you are.”

Fitz sighed at himself in the mirror while Bobbi maneuvered behind and wrapped her arms around him, resting her chin on his shoulder. The floor-length mirror that he’d been using to practice with reflected her smile back at him, which helped ease some of the tension in his body. But only some.

“Just trying to make sure I know it backwards and forwards.” He rubbed his hand over her forearm, watching her smile grow in the mirror. “In case there’s distractions while I’m talking.”

He’d had the issue before, in other presentations. Most of the time Fitz got so absorbed in a lecture or a project that nothing else mattered in the world, that even a bomb going off wouldn’t be enough to distract him from the task at hand.

Other times, though… a simple sneeze in the audience would throw him off track. Particularly during high-stakes meetings like this one, where Weaver and Simmons were counting on him, and continued financial support for their research depended on him nailing this talk. He couldn’t, _wouldn’t_ mess it up.

“Well, if you want to practice with distractions,” Bobbi mused. “I’m pretty sure I could help you with that.”

“What’s that supposed to—” Fitz stopped short when her hand dipped lower and unbuckled his belt in one fluid movement, swallowing hard as the implications hit him like a bag of bricks to the head. “— _oh_. Really?”

Bobbi smirked back at him in the mirror, a wicked smile that had his mind screeching at the sudden change in gears.

“What better way to make sure you’ve memorized it properly? If you can make it through your speech like this, you can definitely do it in front of that board of investors tomorrow.”

Fitz watched his own neck flush, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he weighed his options. Truth be told though, there was only one true choice when Bobbi offered to put her hands on him.

He cleared his throat. “Um, alright then.”

Given the go ahead, Bobbi eased down the fly of his trousers and cupped him through his boxers. Fitz inhaled sharply at the contact, nearly dizzy with how fast all the blood in his body seemed to rush south. She rubbed him slowly for a moment while he swelled under her hand, but when he was silent for too long she nipped the back of his neck.

“Fitz.”

Fuck, he was supposed to be practicing.

“Right, right,” he breathed out. 

Okay, he could do this. Fitz took another deep breath, closed his eyes, and started from the beginning. He’d rehearsed the words so often in the past week that it was nearly rote, even with his girlfriend’s wandering hand teasing his rapidly hardening prick. Desire even managed to take a backseat while he settled into his speech and found the cadence he’d worked so hard to perfect.

Until Bobbi’s hand slid into his boxers and closed around his cock, warm and firm enough to pull a groan from his throat.

“Can’t do that in front of Weaver,” she tsked in his ear. “Start again.”

Swearing under his breath, Fitz did as he was told and started over. It was a much greater feat the second time around, keeping his voice level while Bobbi twisted her hand around him. He was already completely hard, in an embarrassingly short amount of time, but that’s what she did to him. She knew exactly how to touch, to taunt, to drive him completely up the wall. Honestly it was probably a good thing she wasn’t in front of him or he’d already have— 

“Fitz,” Bobbi cooed, as though reading his mind. “Open your eyes.”

Reluctantly, he forced his eyes open, stumbling over his words as he was confronted with the most distracting part of all. Bobbi stared back at him in the mirror, blue eyes intense as she pulled her hand away to bring it up to her mouth. Deliberately, slowly, she dragged her tongue over her palm to wet it.

“Fuck,” Fitz whined.

“You’re not going to say that tomorrow, are you?”

She was teasing him now as nudged his trousers down his hips, freeing up his dick so she could take him back in hand. Her hand glided along freely now, her strokes becoming smoother and slow, practiced, the way she liked to do when she wanted to drive him right to the brink.

“No, I’m not.”

“Well, then, tell me what’s next.”

Fitz could barely open his mouth without wanting to moan for her, but he knew better. Knew she’d stop if he didn’t give her what she wanted, so he kept talking on auto-pilot, rambling on about the chemical properties of palladium and trying not to whimper when the pad of her thumb brushed the head of his cock.

On and on it went, minutes of torture while Bobbi fucked him with her hand and he watched her do it. Trying to keep his brain detached from the pleasure building steadily up his spine, turning his knees to jelly and urging him to thrust forward every fourth or fifth twist of her hand. 

She never took her eyes off of him and so he didn’t, either, completely swept away by the look on her face. She urged him on with soft kisses to the back of his neck, with the scrape of her nails against his thigh. With anyone else this might have felt ridiculous, but Fitz’s inherent trust in Bobbi kept him talking far longer than he thought he’d manage.

Three sentences from the end, she stopped touching him.

Fitz choked back a noise of dissent, watching helplessly in the mirror as Bobbi brought her thumb up to her mouth. He just barely saw the shine of precome in the light before her tongue darted out to lick it away.

“You’re not finished yet,” Bobbi reminded him.

He whined out loud. “ _Nearly_ was.”

It was a little unclear if she meant the speech or how he was ready to blow at any moment, but it was the truth either way.

She curled her fingers around the base of him and squeezed, eliciting another drawn-out moan from somewhere deep in his chest. “Finish the speech.”

Fitz had to take a few more deep breaths before he was able to speak again without stuttering. Bobbi’s touch remained light as he finished, keeping her grip loose and her ministrations slow, but it didn’t matter. His voice still shook as he rattled off the closing line of the presentation. 

“Very good,” she hummed against the back of his neck. “I think Weaver’s going to be impressed.”

“Yeah?” As though he could give a single damn what Weaver thought at the moment.

“Mhm.” Bobbi’s grip, tortuously lax until then, tightened. “You wanna come now?”

Fitz gritted his teeth. “Yes, god, yes.”

“Where?”

“Your mouth.”

Bobbi went silent and he thought she might tell him no, but before Fitz had a chance to blink she was on her knees in front of him. She smiled up at him, so sweet and adoring that the next words that came out of her mouth were nearly jarring.

“Give it to me, then,” she said softly. “Come.”

Without a second thought, Fitz brought his hand to join hers on his cock, guiding her to the right rhythm, the punishing tempo he needed to bring himself to the brink. He was already so ridiculously close that it felt like only a few seconds before his stomach tightened familiarly. Bobbi must have recognized the guttural sound he made because she leaned forward and sealed her lips around him in the nick of time.

If he hadn’t been so busy watching her swallow him down in the mirror, Fitz’s eyes probably would have rolled back in his head.

Dazed, he looked down to see the real Bobbi, not a reflection, sit back on her heels and lick her lips with a grin.

“I don’t think tomorrow will be an issue. Now come on, dinner’s getting cold.”

And with a pat on his thigh, she got to her feet and left him gaping at the open bedroom door. Out of breath, weak-kneed, and holding his softening cock in his hand, Fitz swore repeatedly to himself.

Yeah, he definitely had his speech memorized, but now he had a whole other problem.

He’d be lucky if he made it through the presentation without imagining Bobbi’s hand and her perfect mouth and popping a stiff one in front of every single person responsible for funding his research.

Fitz groaned and hiked his pants back up. He was an adult, after all. He could handle a ten minute presentation, which was the entire point of Bobbi’s little exercise. She believed in him more than anyone else ever had, and he was going to prove her right.

He was going to kill that presentation. So long as there weren’t any mirrors in the room.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Every kudos, comment, and bookmark is loved dearly. Sunday Smutty Sunday is in full swing every week and if you'd like to request something yourself or even prompt me for something else, feel free to check out my [tumblr](treaddelicately.tumblr.com).


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